


Restitution Bonus Features

by inkandpaperqwerty



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Companion Piece, Gen, Humor, Loki (Marvel) Redemption, Memes, Outtakes, Pop Culture, bloopers, bonus features, references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-07-12 10:09:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15993029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandpaperqwerty/pseuds/inkandpaperqwerty
Summary: It's exactly what it sounds like! Bloopers, deleted scenes, miscellaneous drabbles, and more, all set in or around the Restitution universe. Feel free to ask questions or make requests. I promise no deliveries, but I do promise to try!





	1. Chapter 1, 2 & 3 Gag Reel

“I apologize for calling you all here so early.” Thor, whose presence Tony would have questioned if he had the notion to, nodded in Bruce’s direction. “Especially you, Dr. Banner. I am in your debt.”

Bruce nodded seriously. “Dang straight, you are.”

Thor threw his head back and laughed, quickly joined by those around the table.

 

“Cut!”

 

“Start talking.” It was Hawkeye who prompted Thor to explain himself.

Thor shifted again, glancing over his shoulder for a moment before turning to face his teammates once more. “When I took Loki to Asgard, I expected him to face justice. I didn’t like it, but I assumed he would spend the rest of his life in prison or be executed upon his arrival—”

“Achoo!” The lump on the floor that was supposed to an unconscious Loki put a hand in the air. “Sorry, roll it again.”

 

“Cut!”

 

“Start talking.” It was Hawkeye who prompted Thor to explain himself.

Thor shifted again, glancing over his shoulder for a moment before turning to face his teammates once more. “When—”

“Achoo! Achoo!” Loki sat up, sneezing into the crook of his arm again. “What is on this floor? Do you never vacuum? Achoo!”

“Bless you,” Steve answered.

Tony rolled his eyes. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”

Thor nodded seriously. “He has chivalry in his blood.”

“He has something in his blood, that’s for sure.”

 

“Cut!”

 

“I asked him if I could bring Loki to Midgard… and try to rehabilitate him.”

Silence reigned once more, but it didn’t last, even with Thor’s hands outstretched in a wordless plea for everyone to give him a chance to explain.

“And he _agreed?_ ”

“Thor, you can’t volunteer the whole planet for things without discussing it first.”

“Ain’t nobody got time fo’ dat, fool.” Director Fury wagged a finger at Thor. “You came to the wrong neighborhood.”

Thor snapped his fingers. “I suppose it’s time for my backup plan: Loki is going to fake his death again.”

 

“Cut!”

 

Bruce gave a slight nod and cleared his throat again, standing up and adjusting his glasses before speaking. “Loki has actually been on planet earth for a couple of days. Thor came to see me first, and we spent several hours discussing Loki’s mental state. Loki was unconscious the entire time, and without the use of psychological tests, it’s hard to say exactly what’s going on up there, but I do have a general idea. My biggest concern is… that I can’t remember my line. What is it?”

 

“Cut!”

 

Tony quirked a brow. “Jotunheim?”

“One of the Nine Realms,” Thor explained. “To put it mildly, they are our mortal enemies. To put it not-so-mildly, all of Asgard loathes their existence, and we are quite… what’s the word? Dr. Banner?”

“Terrible, awful people who need to get their act together,” the scientist supplied.

Thor dropped his head, laughing and bracing his arms on the table to hold himself up. “Yes. Yes, we are.”

“Speak for yourself, Thor.”

“Shut up, Loki! You’re supposed to be in a comma!”

Bruce rubbed his forehead. “Coma, Thor.”

“Yes, that.”

 

“Cut!”

 

“Remember when I told you Loki was a full-tilt diva?” Tony asked.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Flowers, parades, and giant towers.”

“Well, I was freaking right. He’s so vain. I bet he thinks this story’s about him.” Tony pointed to Loki, who was still on the floor. “Don’t you? Don’t you?”

Steve and Thor stared on in confusion as Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Fury, and Hill all began to laugh.

“Loki… do you get the joke?” Thor asked, turning toward the corner.

“Oh, sorry, I can’t help. I’m in a coma, remember?”

“I hate you.”

 

“Cut!”

 

“Bruce, you agreed to be a therapist for Reindeer Games?”

Bruce nodded, adjusting his glasses. “I know we can only give you a brief summary now, but Thor and I talked for quite some time, and I was given a detailed account of Loki’s recent and not-so-recent past.” He took a slow breath and then let it out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You see, Loki has always had a very shiny nose. I mean, whenever you see it, you say it glows. And so… all of the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names. They never let poor Loki…”

Everyone in the room was laughing, but Tony merely jumped up and slid across the table for a big, Broadway finish. “Play in any Reindeer Games!”

“Stark, get your _butt_ off my table.”

“Tch. You can’t afford my butt.”

 

“Cut!”

 

“Thor,” Tony started, and for once he let the off-handed sarcasm fade from his voice. “Why did you bring Loki down here if you were going to keep him unconscious the entire time?”

“Well, you see…" Thor looked around the table, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled with his words. “It was in the script.”

 

“Cut!”

 

“Thor,” Tony started, and for once he let the off-handed sarcasm fade from his voice. “Why did you bring Loki down here if you were going to keep him unconscious the entire time?”

Thor looked around the table, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled with his words. “I… do not want to influence your decision…”

Tony shook his head. “You won’t. Decision’s already been made.”

Steve stood up and slammed his hand on the table. “We say no!”

Clint pushed his chair away from the table and started to leave. “That’s it. That’s the end of the story. Goodnight, everybody.”

 

“Cut!”

 

Tony shook his head. “You won’t. Decision’s already been made.”

Thor blinked, surprised, and looked around the table several more times before quietly offering his reply. “If I can find no way to remove or lighten Loki’s sentence, I will have no choice but to take him and flee to another realm. I don’t want Father to have a chance to get getween—get—get _between—_ ”

“Can we get through this scene once?” Fury threw his hands up. “Just once! It doesn’t even have to be good!”

 

“Cut!”

 

Clint immediately jumped in, leaning forward and putting an elbow on the table. “We need to—”

“Barton, Barton strong and able,” Steve started, pounding rhythmically with his fists, “get your elbows off the table.”

Bruce and Natasha joined in, also pounding. “This is not a horse’s stable, but a first class dining table!”

Clint groaned and got to his feet as everyone joined in, doing what they asked of him with an exceptionally dramatic flair.

“Round the table you must go, you must go, you must go! Round the table you must go, my fair Barton!”

Clint skipped and twirled and even moonwalked at one point before finally making it all the way back to his chair.

 

“Cut!”

 

“Yes, we mean,” Tony snapped irritably. “Now, where are we going to put him?”

Thor and Bruce exchanged glances, silently tossing the answer back and forth.

“We’re taking the Loki to Isengard!”

 

"Cut!"

 

* * *

Loki’s eyes wandered over him carefully, scrutinizing the man and displaying no small amount of disbelief. “I believe it unwise to take the advice of my adversaries.” His fingers subconsciously curled around the sheets on the bed behind him.

“You can walk, or you can be carried.” The Captain’s voice was stern and clipped, his eyes turning to ice as he stared the other down. “What’s it gonna be, Loki?”

Loki spread his arms and beckoned Steve with his fingers. “Let’s get this over with.”

Steve started laughing, leaning on his knees while Loki sighed impatiently.

“Captain, I await my chariot.”

Steve kept laughing.

 

“Cut!”

 

The elevator jerked to a halt, and the doors were sliding open in a matter of seconds. That time around, Loki managed to limit his reaction to a slight loss of balance, and he strode out with a regained sense of confidence…

…until his foot snagged on the lip between the lift and the floor, at which point he stumbled across the hall and half landed, half leaned against the wall.

“Wow,” Steve chuckled through his words, doing little to keep the smile off his face.

“Shut up, Steven.”

“But you’re so graceful.”

 

“Cut!”

 

Steve glanced at Loki only briefly, keeping his eyes trained on the path in front of him. “Just one.” He kept walking, shoulders squared and face tight, all previous signs of openness gone. “He told us how you got banished. That was it.”

Loki slowly arched a brow. “Are you quite certain?”

Steve slowed to a stop, realization slowly dawning on his features. “Wait… wait, crap, I got that wrong.”

Loki laughed and turned around, already headed back to the elevator.

 

“Cut!”

 

“I need not listen.” Loki’s tone was crisp and businesslike, with just enough bitterness to sharpen the edge. “You should not have gotten involved. Where anyone of emotional value to you is concerned, your sense of justice is weak and fractured, Thor.” Pause. “Odinson. Thor Odinson.” He shook his head and tried to get the last part of the line so it could be edited in. “Where anyone of emotional value to you is concerned, your sense of loyalty—nope, that’s not it either. Just scrap the whole bloody thing.”

 

“Cut!”

 

 _I will feign gratitude, at least. I have to gain enough trust for them to look the other way… and when they do, I’ll leave._ What he was going to do after the fact, he didn’t know, seeing as his magic was sealed, he was human, and he had no way of concealing his identity from the planet’s occupants. But he wouldn’t stay, bound and humiliated and patronized. He refused.

Loki started digging through the drawers, looking for something he could use to cut off the matted ends. Unfortunately, there were no knives, no razors, and no blades anywhere in the room that he could find.

“You have to comb it first, Loki.”

Loki looked up at the ceiling, and then down at himself. “No. I get the scissors, then comb my hair, then cut the ends.”

Jarvis sounded mildly irked when he replied, “That is what the script says, but when it actually happened, you combed your hair first.”

“Does it really matter? I can—”

“Of course. We want to be accurate.”

“We don’t know for sure that’s how—”

“I have the footage.”

Loki threw his hands up and shouted in frustration.

 

“Cut!”

 

“Here, this’ll help…” It sounded like Steve, though his words were low and slurred, distorted by lingering sleep. “Just…” Yawn. “Just lay back down, m’kay?”

Loki opened his mouth to protest, unable to see what Steve had or what he was going to do with it. “I d—”

Steve pushed his shoulder down and let out a tired, frustrated, and somewhat disoriented noise. “Just _lay_ down. I want to go back to bed.”

Loki’s back hit the mattress, and something soft and ice cold was pressed against his head a moment later.

“Just put it wherever the pain is.” Steve yawned again and pulled the blankets haphazardly up over Loki’s head, ambling footsteps signaling his departure shortly thereafter. “Meh… you’ll figure it out.”

Loki lay completely still for several moments, one hand holding the cold object to his head and one keeping the blanket from touching his face, and then his eyes started to drift shut.

“You t—” Loki jolted when Thor rushed into the room banging two metal pans together.

“I didn’t get no sleep ‘cause of y’all, y’all not gon’ get no sleep ‘cause of me! I didn’t get no sleep ‘cause of y’all…”

Loki covered his head with a pillow and tried to block out the racket. “Yes! Yes, I know, I kept you up many nights! It’s not my fault you worry so much!”

“…sleep ‘cause of y’all, y’all not gon’ get no sleep ‘cause of me!”

“Somebody _stop_ him!”

 

“Cut!”

 

* * *

 

He hated the way the soldier looked at him, hated the thoughts he saw in the pale, sky blue irises. Pity, like he was a charity case in need of sympathetic captors. Irritation, like he was a nuisance the hero would rather not deal with. Patronization, like he was a stubborn child with whom it was easier to agree than fight.

“Do not touch me.”

Steve stuck out his finger, holding it right in front of Loki’s nose but never quite making contact. “There. I’m not touching you.”

Loki glanced up, confused. “I’m supposed to think for a bit, and you put your finger by my chest, not my face.”

“Either way, I’m still not touching you. I’m not touching you,” Steve repeated in a singsong voice, and then he started to move his finger around Loki’s face. “I’m not touching you, I’m not touching you, I’m not—”

“Knock it off, Steven!” Loki swatted his hand away.

“Why? I didn’t touch you.”

“Just stick to the script, for goodness’ sake…”

Steve put his finger in his mouth and quickly stuck it in Loki’s ear. “That’s not in the script, either, but it’s still funny.”

Loki let out a sound of disgust and stood up, moving away and immediately trying to clean out his ear. “That was _repulsive._ Is this some sort of Midgardian _game_ or something?”

Steve threw his head back laughing and wet his finger again.

“Steven, get away from me!”

 

“Cut!”

 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips at the ceiling. “And why exactly does Tony need me to get his lunch for him?”

“Would you like me to play the sound bite?”

Steve nodded, and Loki waited to see if Jarvis would accept the non-verbal command. He did, and music came from the speakers a moment later.

“Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down…”

Steve put his head in his hands, moaning loudly.

Loki leaned toward Steve and lowered his voice. “Is he professing his undying love?”

Steve shook his head. “No. He Rick Rolled me.”

“…gonna say goodbye, never gonna make you cry, never gonna tell a lie and hurt you.”

Loki pursed his lips. “No, I… I’m pretty sure he’s professing his undying love.”

Steve groaned again, but to be perfectly honest, Loki thought the tune was rather catchy.

 

“Cut!”

 

“So, if you would, take my advice and actually try to cooperate. Otherwise, you’ll be back in your old cell before you can…” Steve stalled, but didn’t break character. “Wait, gimme a second.”

Loki stood completely still, waiting for Steve to recall the word.

“Before you can… before you can… Blink! Blink. Before you can blink.”

 

"Cut!"

 

“So.” Bruce cracked a small smile. “Tell me about your childhood.”

Loki collapsed on the nearby couch with the appropriate amount of dramatic flair, placing the back of his hand against his forehead. “Well, you see, Doctor… it all began… when I was born.”

Bruce threw his head back laughing, and after a moment or two of maintaining a serious face, Loki joined him.

 

“Cut!”

 

“I didn’t ask what Asgard thought of books, I asked what you thought of books.” Bruce set down the papers and began to tick off a long list on his fingers. “There are mysteries, action and adventure, horror, suspense, biographies, autobiographies, fiction, historical, historical fiction, vampire romance novels that present abuse as romance, porn novels that present abuse as romance, science fiction, fantasy… oh, sorry. Did I go a little off-script there?”

Loki blinked slowly, looked toward the cameramen, and then back at Bruce. “I… have no idea what just happened.”

Bruce only laughed.

 

“Cut!”

 

Loki wasn’t sure how to take that the _right_ way. “I did.” He paused, recalling the state he had woken up in the day before. “I felt clean whenever I woke up yesterday, and then I showered in the evening. Still, I have spent two years in prison—there is only so much water can do.”

“Soap isn’t working?”

There was a moment of silence.

Loki blinked. “Pardon?”

Bruce blinked. “Soap?”

“I am…” Loki squinted and shook his head, folding his arms over his chest. “Are you absolutely sure this is what I said to you?”

Bruce chuckled softly and nodded his head. “Yes, Loki. What I wrote in the script is _exactly_ what you said to me.”

“Well, perhaps I was joking, and you simply didn’t realize…”

“You looked at me and, with a very serious expression on your face, said to me, verbatim, ‘I am unfamiliar with the workings of your soap.’”

Loki stared at him for a moment, and then he dropped his head with a heavy sigh. He unfolded his arms to bring his hands up to his face, a quiet groan escaping him. “I can’t believe I said that… It sounds so stupid in retrospect.”

“I thought it was hysterical.”

“Shut up, Bruce.”

 

“Cut!”

 

Loki raised an eyebrow. “You would have to elaborate.”

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. “There are lots of different crafting hobbies. Leatherworking, woodworking, whittling, paper crafting, and I know I’m missing some of these… I hate this list. What is it again?”

 

“Cut!”

 

Loki raised an eyebrow. “You would have to elaborate.”

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. “There are lots of different crafting hobbies. Leatherworking, woodwhittling—wood, wood _working_ , dagnabbit.”

Loki laughed. “Woodwhittling.”

 

“Cut!”

 

Loki raised an eyebrow. “You would have to elaborate.”

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. “There are lots of different crafting hobbies. Leatherworking, woodworking, whittling, metalworking, model building, paper crafting, and even letter writing or calligraphy could all technically count as kinds of crafting.”

 _Your questions make no sense._ Loki was, of course, interested in crafting things. Magic itself was a kind of craft, though many on Asgard would beg to differ. _But I am a war criminal, not a guest._

“They are all familiar terms.” Well, that was a lie. “However, all of them are—none of them would—none of them are of any interest to me. Are we able to use any of that?”

“No, we have to retake,” one of the stagehands replied.

Bruce threw his hands up. “Are you kidding me? I finally got my stupid monologue right, and you screwed up your one-line reply?”

Loki pouted childishly. “It’s not like I tried to. And I _did_ try to correct it, the cameras simply didn’t cooperate.”

Bruce deadpanned. “You’re blaming the cameras for not properly recording your mistake so it could be edited out by other people?”

“Exactly.” Loki closed his eyes and gave a single, indignant nod.

“You’re unbelievable.” Bruce let his head fall against the back of the couch.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

 

“Cut!”

 

It felt like an eternity had passed before the door finally unlocked, and Loki quickly got to his feet, trying and failing to hide his eagerness. He turned toward the door and took two steps before coming to an immediate halt, his entire body turning to stone.

“Not so fast, Reindeer Games.”

Steve jumped out from behind Tony. “Dun, dun, duuuuuuuun!”

Tony mimed a microphone under his mouth. “Next week on _Living With Loki_ …”

Loki groaned and put his head in his hands.

 

“Cut!”


	2. Chapter 4, 5 & 6 Gag Reel

Shrugging, Tony flipped the case open to reveal a long row of tubes and syringes. “Well, we could just let you die, but where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh, so you do intend to have fun.” Loki arched his eyebrows, using the opening to try and regain some of his former aloofness. “I didn’t realize this was that kind of an arrangement, Anthony.”

“I mean, it wasn’t part of the plan, but I’m a pretty flexible guy.”

“I prefer firm over flexible, thank you.”

“I’ve seen what’s in your pants, and I gotta say, I find that hard to believe.”

“Enough, both of you.” Steve stepped in, drawing his arm down between the two men and giving them each a long, hard stare. “Even if this were the time and place for a contest, I’ve got you both beat, so just knock it off, okay?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Say that to my face, Spangles!”

Bruce massaged his forehead and sighed, walking toward the exit. “They’ll be at this a while. I’m taking a coffee break.”

 

“Cut!”

 

Bruce’s laughter interrupted them all. He sat down on the table and rolled up Loki’s sleeve. “How about we focus on the medical records for now?” Still chuckling to himself, he went to tie a strip of rubber around Loki’s arm, dropping one end by mistake. He grabbed it again...

…and dropped it again.

“You need some help there?”

Bruce didn’t break character. “I’ll get it.” He tried again, and he managed to wrap it around Loki’s bicep, but when he went to tie it, it slipped between his fingers again. “Are you kidding me?”

 

“Cut!”

 

* * *

 

“You did the right thing by bringing him here, Thor.” Steve saw the way the situation was weighing on Thor’s mind, and as team leader, he felt it was his personal responsibility to keep Thor from second guessing a good decision. “You didn’t have—woah!”

Thor reached out to help Steve grab the falling objects, but there was no point. Everything clattered to the floor, and Thor threw his head back laughing while Steve stared miserably at the one sub he had managed to save.

“I was really looking forward to eating this…” Steve mumbled.

Thor only laughed louder.

 

“Cut!”

 

 “I wanted to apologize for taking this long to get you a meal. We were all caught off guard by Thor’s visit and request, and—” He cut himself off and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m the leader of this team, and it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re taken care of. I haven’t handled that very well up until this point, and I’m sorry.”

Loki stared him down for a moment or two, and then he snapped his fingers and pointed to the ceiling. On cue, Jarvis sent One Republic through every speaker in the room.

Steve laughed, but Loki’s serious composure didn’t waver.

“It’s too late to apologize, Captain. It’s too late.”

 

“Cut!”

 

Loki’s voice grew in volume, the muscles in his body going taught as a line of defense against whatever retaliation Steve might offer, rage boiling in the pit of his stomach. “You speak with good intentions and kindness because you think it will make this situation pass in the quickest and easiest way it can. It will keep you in Thor’s good graces, which will in turn give you the most powerful allies in all the Nine Realms, but it will also keep me from causing you any m—pro—tr—” Loki stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry, shaking his head.

 

“Cut!”

 

“It will keep you in Thor’s good graces, which will in turn give you the most powerful allies in all the Nine Realms, but it will also keep me from causing you any further trouble. It makes you feel as though you truly are heroes, making a sacrifice to achieve a greater good, to do what you have been lead to believe is ri—morally right, it’s _morally_ right!”

Steve laughed while Loki dragged his hands through his hair.

“I will nail this line with utter perfection if it’s the last thing I do.”

 

“Cut!”

 

* * *

 

 

Sadly, Chapter 6 has no bloopers.


	3. Deleted Scene 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deleted Scene: Chapter 9, During the Two-Week Break, Street Work

Loki held his hand to his stomach and hissed under his breath, quickly looking around for any sign that the mistake had been seen. Steve, his handler for the day, was in the middle of pulling down a broken overhang with two other men.

 _It’s bleeding…_ He looked down at the cut on his palm, running his finger along the incision with a quiet hiss. _It isn’t melding back together. It just… stays apart._ He knew that was how human bodies worked, but to look down at his own hand and…

_It looks wrong._

“Hey, hon!”

Loki looked to his right when he saw movement, a young woman standing up and dusting her hands on her dirty pants—jeans, if Loki recalled correctly.

“Cymere and Imani are getting tired. You ready to head home?”

Loki didn’t look in the direction of the male voice, instead keeping his eyes on his own hand and concealing any interest he had in the conversation.

“Yeah, sure.” She grabbed her water bottle from the ground and took a quick drink. “Dinner on the way home?”

“Sure. I’m gonna get the kids, okay?”

She took another drink and gave a thumbs up before adjusting her bandana. She started to walk in the direction of the male voice—her husband, probably—but she took no more than two steps when she stopped.

“Hon, c’mere a second.”

Loki glanced up when he heard movement, and he was startled by her sudden appearance as well as her hands closing around his.

“Excuse you, I—”

“Hey, what’s up?” the man who had been speaking—lively, young, blonde, a little too Thor-looking for Loki’s tastes—stopped in front of Loki and whistled. “Ouch. Let me help with that.”

Loki tensed slightly and tried to lean back, but he was already up against a wall. “I don’t know either of you,” he said, hoping that would make his disinterest in their assistance clear.

“Oh, sorry! My name is Derek, and this is Angela.”

Angela waved with one hand while the other continued to hold Loki’s hand. “You cut yourself pretty badly. Hon, do you think it needs stitches?”

Derek dropped his bag to the ground and pulled out a box with the Red Cross symbol on it. “I don’t think so, but we’ll have to clear the blood away first.”

Loki remained tensed, glancing in Steve’s general direction and trying to decide whether or not he wanted the soldier to intervene. His attention was taken long enough for the sudden sting in his wound to startle him.

“Sorry,” Derek murmured, pressing a white cloth to the now foaming wound. “Gotta love peroxide.”

Loki nodded vaguely, though he had absolutely no idea what peroxide was, and tried not to panic at the sight of foam rising from his wound.

Derek dabbed at the cut with a gauze pad and, after another round of per-ox-ide, got to work dressing the wound. He blew on the cut to ease the sting, applied some sort of salve or ointment to the gap in the flesh, and then started to wrap the whole mess in gauze.

“You, ah… you really didn’t have to do this.” Loki still wasn’t sure how he felt about humans poking around his body, but he figured they knew humanity’s medical needs better than he did.

“Oh, nonsense. It’s why we’re here, right?” It was Angela who spoke, standing next to her partner and supplying him with whatever he needed.

“I’m not—” Loki glanced over toward Steve again. “I’m not a victim. I’m here to work, not because I need help.”

Both humans laughed at that, and he tried not to be offended. He failed, but he tried, and he deserved points for that.

“Well, we aren’t just here to help victims, you know.” Angela smiled warmly. “We’re here to help anyone who needs it. I mean, that’s the human race in a nutshell, right?”

Loki arched a brow, confused, any thoughts of a sarcastic reply about his true reason for working on the streets vanishing when he heard her last statement.

“Well, only the better half of humanity, but still. It’s kinda our thing.” Angela shrugged her shoulders. “Every time there’s a tragedy, we just… stick together. We help each other out.”

Derek gave the hand a squeeze, pressing the bandage down tightly, and then he gave Loki a warm smile. “Are you here with someone?”

Loki nodded stiffly, pulling his hand close to himself and subconsciously pressing it to his stomach. He looked down long enough to glare at his own injury, wondering why it hurt when pressure was applied to the bandage. It wasn’t exposed anymore, so why the pain?

“Are you sure?” Derek laughed softly and gestured down the road where he had come from. “We can get you some dinner and a place to stay, if you need.”

Loki scowled at both of them. “You don’t even know me.”

Angela wagged a finger in his direction and spoke in a singsong voice. “Not the point!”

Loki looked at her for a moment, and then he looked at Derek. He kept his eyes there for another moment, and then he looked over his shoulder to make sure Steve was within eyesight.

“My… friend… is over there. I’ll be fine.” He cleared his throat and looked back at them, struggling with his words for a moment. “I… appreciate your assistance.” He refused to thank them.

He absolutely _refused._

“You’re welcome!” Angela said, chipper as ever.

Derek smiled—that infuriatingly _Thorish_ smile—and gave a two-finger salute. “We’ll be on our way then. You take care of yourself, now.”

Loki only stared at them, watching the happy couple leave, already engrossed in a new conversation as if they hadn’t just done something fundamentally skewed.

They didn’t know who he was—they hadn’t even gotten his _name_ —and yet they bandaged his wound and offered food and shelter. They didn’t ask for payment. They had no intention of calling on a favor in the future, or they would have found out who he was and where to find him. They simply helped him because they could; because he needed help.

What was _wrong_ with them?

Loki shook himself and turned away from the dimming alley, making a beeline for Steve. He had had enough human interaction for one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's never explicitly stated, but Angela and Derek were going to be a white couple who adopted two black kids, which I intended to use to instigate more conversation and thought from Loki about one race adopting another, or potentially a bi-racial family, but it never panned out. Their races aren't really relevant to the part of the story that actually wound up being written (and cut), but in case you were wondering about the names... that's why.


	4. Deleted Scene 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started making changes to this scene before I scrapped it altogether, so it's a little dicey. Think of it as one of those deleted scenes where halfway through it turns to black and white pencil animation.

“For the last time, stop running.”

Thor glanced up at the familiar voice and smiled a little. Loki would be the one to scold children trying to have fun.

Thor was tempted to make a comment, but he kept his mouth shut like he was supposed to. Bruce told him to give Loki space, so space was what Loki would get.

Anything to save what was left of his little brother.

Anything to save Loki from torture—all of him; the parts Thor missed and the parts he didn’t.

_Be thankful. Everything has worked thus far._

Granted, it had only been twenty-one days, but Thor was determined to remain optimistic. After all—

“Stop running! _Stop!_ ”

Time froze when Thor heard the frantic undertone in Loki’s voice. It was his, ‘Thor, stop before you _hurt yourself,’_ voice, and it left a sick weight in Thor’s gut.

Thor took one step and saw Loki running for the street, features painted with a raw emotion Thor hadn’t seen in a very long time. Thor took another step, and he saw the child’s mother turn to the road. Her groceries hit the pavement, the impact splitting open a gallon of milk. On his third step, Thor heard the screech of tires on blacktop; the beginning of a skid before the antilock brakes kicked in.

Time resumed, and Thor sprinted down the short alley to the road. He arrived just in time for Steve to harshly order, “Don’t let the mother see.”

Thor turned on his heel and intercepted the frantic woman.

“Let me through! Let me—Jamie!”

Thor took her by the arms and started to push her back. “Ma’am, you don’t need to see this. Please, listen, you don’t n—”

“Jamie! Jamie!”

Thor turned his head toward the scene, but he couldn’t make out any words or gestures. He could, however, see very clearly that no one was working to keep the boy alive.

“You don’t want to remember him like this…” Thor tried. “Please, you need to sit down.”

The woman paid him no mind—or perhaps she couldn’t hear him over her own screams—and she continued to struggle and call for her boy. It grew more desperate the longer she went without receiving a reply, her voice breaking, phrases intermingled with coarse cries.

“Jamie! Jamie! Oh, God—God, no please! No, no, no, no, Jamie! No, please, please not my baby, God, no, _please!”_

Thor felt her weight shift, and he lowered them both to the ground, knowing her knees most likely gave. He put his hand to the back of her head and held her tightly.

He had been kneeling for no more than two seconds when Loki rushed past, Dr. Banner following shortly after.

Thor heaved a sigh and cradled the mother’s head against his chest, silently wishing he had kept his optimism in check. One never knew when everything was about to go south.

Best not to get his hopes up.   

* * *

 

(MAYBE HAVE THOR GO AFTER LOKI INSTEAD OF BRUCE???)

“Jamie! Jamie!”

Jamie. That was its name. That was the mangled lump of flesh on the road, the one slowly forming its own puddle of blood on the blacktop, the contortion of limbs wrapped up in front of a bloody car. It was called Jamie.

Only it wasn’t an it. It was a he.

It was a little boy, no older than seven, with a toy plane still in the hand of the arm twisted up beneath him.

“You could at least try.” That was Tony.

“It won’t work.” That was Steve.

Loki slowly turned his head, trying to look at them, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the body; the tiny, twisted body on the pavement.

“How do you know?” Tony was shouting now. Or at least, it seemed like he was. “People get resuscitated all the time—”

“His neck is broken and his head is bashed in,” Steve snapped back, colder than Loki had ever seen him. “ _What_ do you think _oxygen_ is going to do?”

“It’s better than standing around twiddling our thumbs!”

“You can’t _fix_ _everything_ , Tony! He’s not a robot!”

There was a pause, but Loki didn’t care to check their body language. There wasn’t an ounce of curiosity in him. He couldn’t have cared less about them. He needed to find a way to stop staring, because he was starting to get sick, and it was getting harder to breathe.

“Sorry.”

“Me, too.”

“I told him to stop running.” Loki finally tore his gaze away, barely able to speak with his throat closed up so tightly. “I _told_ him.”

With that, Loki turned on his heel and left. He didn’t know where he was going, but he didn’t care. He just didn’t _care._

_He was so small._

People weren’t supposed to die small. Even humans, with their incredibly limited lifespans, were supposed to reach adulthood at the very least. They were supposed to… _do_ things. Learn. Grow. Wander. They were supposed to be stupid and shallow and weak, they were supposed to be nothing compared to him, but they weren’t supposed to die small.

They just _weren’t supposed_ to.

“Loki.”

Loki’s head snapped up, breathing still haggard, and he locked eyes with Thor. Thor was _not_ the person he wanted to see right now. They were in an alley, it seemed, though he didn’t remember how he got there, and the edges of his vision were blurred and lacking color, and Thor was in that alley, and _Loki just couldn’t—_

“Does this happen often?” Loki spat. “They just let children run wild in the streets wherever they please? Including streets where large machines can run them down at any moment?” Loki laughed bitterly, _angrily,_ rage building below the surface. “This is the species you love so dearly, is it? It is amazing to me they aren’t extinct yet. The fact that they, despite being so _spectacularly incompetent_ when it comes to their own survival, still have enough people to inhabit a planet _boggles_ my mind.”

(HEY HELLO THIS IS WHERE YOU STOPPED EDITING)

* * *

(THIS IS THE BRUCE ONE DO NOT STICK THESE BITS TOGETHER)

Bruce put his hands in his pockets, waiting patiently for Loki to say whatever else was on his mind. When he didn’t, Bruce smiled the softest, kindest smile Loki had ever seen and spoke with matching temperament.

“It’s not your fault, Loki.”

“Of _course,_ it isn’t. I did everything _right._ ”

Bruce didn’t say anything, but his smile didn’t waver, and the sick turning in Loki’s stomach started to fade. Despite every neuron in Loki’s brain firing at once, telling him he had done no wrong, it was five quiet words from an enemy that finally made the suffocating guilt ease up a bit.

“Let’s go back to the tower.”

Loki almost spat out a snarky reply about still having work to do; about being required to commit a certain number of hours of _helpful_ work, as if such an endeavor would somehow purify him. He almost did, but in the end, he simply nodded his head. He let Bruce take him by the arm and guide him down the street. He walked, numb, only vaguely aware of what was going on around him.

_How many… how many children did I kill in my attack?_

Somehow, Loki didn’t think this was what the Avengers had in mind when they said street work would make him realize the weight of his actions; make him realize what he’d done.

But it had.

It had, and he couldn’t breathe, and…

_What have I done?_


End file.
